To Sooth A Soul
A great Tamil poet died three decades back,
Since when he's been widely celebrated.
His wife died now and was seen off unsung.
To sooth a soul, its heirs must be honoured..
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mangan
Arguably the greatest poet old Ireland has seen
'Twas he penned the poem known as 'Dark Rosaleen'
In eighteen forty nine in his mid forties in poverty he died
Though true genius of him never can be denied
The great James Clarence Mangan Ireland's National bard
His journey through life was to say the least hard
He lived as he died in abject poverty
Yet one could not name many poets as great as he
From consumption and poor diet and neglect he died very young
For him no State funeral and he was unsung
Despite his hard life it seems a remarkable feat
That so many great poems the great poet did bequeath
To Ireland and it's people though he died just past his prime
As one of the poor souls of the Dublin of his time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Day I Died
The air was close, but it would not rain
The day I died.
And smog enshrouded Gotham town
The day I died..
I should have stayed in Oceanside
The day I died.
Instead of a hellish subway ride
The day I died.
It started with a stabbing pain
The day I died.
Then waves of nausea deep inside
The day I died.
I fell to earth, I could not breathe
The day I died.
Co workers rushing to my side
The day I died.
Sirens scream on distant streets
The day I died.
bringing hosts of E.M.T.’s
The day I died..
Too late for me, this proud heart fails
The day I died.
I thought” This is the last of Earth”
The day I died.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Died
Joy Mukherjee
Died.
Dharam Dev
Pishorimal
Anand,
Also known as
Dev Anand -
Died.
Bhupen Hazarika
Died.
Jagmohan (Jagjit)
Singh Ji died.
Mansoor Ali Khan
Pataudi died.
They all
Did their
Best -
And died.
I'm also
Doing my
Best -
So that
You don't
Complain:
She didn't do
Anything ;)
She just
Existed -
And died!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Today I Died Again
The human drum
Beats a rhythm of life
The clothes he wears
Date back to the war
He talks alot
Often to himself
She dont say much
Just cuts his hair
She cant remember
Before the heat
He cant remember
His wifes christian name
Paint me a picture
Towers in sand
America can fall
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Back to a year
Back to a youth
Of men in church and drug cabarets
Is this the age
Of empires and dance
Oh what a world
Oh what a world
She cant remember
Before this heat
He cant remember
His wifes christian name
Paint me a picture
Bodies in sand
Presidents can fall
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Agony of the old
Had I died as a lad, my parents would have wept.
Had I died as a man, my children and wife would have wept.
Had I died ere my wife, my wife would have wept.
A widower, an invalid, a cumbersome,
When I die who will have wept?
28.11.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Classical Tamil World Conference (Semmozhi Tamizh Ulaga Manadu)
Through you, I came, Mother;
Lucky was my birth in Bharat, my Motherland;
I was nurtured and grew up by mother’s milk;
I drew strength from my mother’s love.
I knew the world through my mother-tongue;
I learnt most things by mother-tongue;
Thanks to my dear earthly mother;
Thanks to my Mother, Tamil!
The place where I was born was Tamilnadu;
Tamil is my mother-tongue;
Tamil was my first breath;
My first cry was in Tamil.
My last breath shall be Tamil;
My life will be for Tamil;
I am proud of my mother-tongue, Tamil;
I am proud to be a Tamilian!
Tamil is a great language;
Tamil is a popular language;
Tamil is an ancient language;
Tamil is a classical language.
Tamil is a world language;
Tamil is a language of Gods!
Dedicated to ‘Classical Tamil World Conference,2010, Coimbatore’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-06-2010
poem by John Celes
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Vow
I can't use what I can't abuse
And I can't stop when it comes to you
You burned me out but I'm back at your door
Like Joan of Arc coming back for more
I nearly died
I nearly died
I nearly died
I came to cut you up
I came to knock you down
I came around to tear your little world apart
I came to shut you up
I came to drag you down
I came around to tear your little world apart
And break your soul apart
Ah
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Died Today
if i died today
what would you say
if i died today
what would you do
would you cry
because i left you alone
or would you hate me
because we are bound by blood
if i died today
would you kill yourself
because you failed as my gaurdian
if you died today
id weep black tears
and as my soul shattered
id wish to be with you again
in our other world
but if i died today
you would try to bring me bak
even if it killed you
but in the very end you would realize
all i wanted
was for you to live
and to protect my body
so that i may once again return.
poem by Jasmine Appelhaus
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The Non Swimming Man Of The Sea
He had his own fishing boat for many years though he never ventured far out to sea
And from fishing he made a good living enough to upkeep his family
He was born and he still lives near the ocean and the ocean holds no fears for him
But to many it may seem a bit strange that he's never learned how to swim.
Though he left school young for to fish with his father he's a bright man and nobody's fool
And his son and daughter live in the big city their children in Primary school
Two years ago his wife she died suddenly they had been married for thirty five years
And though for her his grieving is over thoughts of her still move him to tears.
A year younger than him she felt quite well till a massive heart attack struck her down
And one day he too will go to join her in the grave yard in the sea side Town
He had a wish to be cremated and his ashes spread on the sea shore
But to his wife he must remain true and with her he will lay forever more.
He sold his fishing boat when his wife died his great zest for life with her died
He now lives on the old age pension and from his cottage he can hear the tide
Rage against the rocks on the fore shore the huge waves they rumble and roll
The immortal voice of the ocean is ever soothing to his soul.
Last February he turned seventy and the years have left him gray and slow
Still he finds comfort in his good memories of his better days decades ago
Of his beautiful wife and their children but life part of mortality
And the Reaper is now quietly waiting for the non swimming man of the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Died
I could climb until I reach where angels reside
Ask around to find out where the junkies applied
You just up and left me on this rock all alone
Its my fault for knowing now what I should have known
Ohhhh oh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Ohh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
I could drop until I touch the sinister side
Visit all attractions flippin back and aside
Still you leave me rotting on this rock all alone
Its my fault for knowing not what I should have known
Ohhhh oh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Ohh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
Ohhh oh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Uhh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
I could climb until I reach where angels reside
I could drop until I touch the sinister side
Ohhhh oh
My heart is tired of beating slow
Uhh ohh
Its been depleating since you died
Died
Since you died
You died
Died
You died
Died
You died
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Narrative of Death
As the patriot rounds the corner he sees a man, and there lies a sturdy rusted object in the gentleman’s hand. The man stabs the heroin in the back, object held in his fist. The hero’s body starts to relax, unable to resist. As the martyr’s blood flows over the unsheathed blade, the murderer lets out a laugh. The man in a puddle, a victim of raid, pleaded with a gasp, Please sir don’t kill me I have a wife! I have two sons and a daughter. Please, I do want my sad life, I wish not be a prey of your slaughter.
There in a puddle they found him the next day, the knife in his back and the blood in his face. The world never noticed the crime happened to pass. He could have died calmly, died in the grass, but he died horribly died gory as the original mass. His family did mourn for he died for no cause. He was murdered in coldness, and it was all for his loss.
poem by Axiom Wheeler
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The Man Died
The man died and died and died
And finally the man died!
People killed the man severally
Before the man finally died
The mans family labelled
The man dead.
The community labelled
The man dead
.
And above all the man saw in Himself a living ghost
And had since decayed and rotted inside
That not even the warmt
Of a living blood
Could've been enough
To bring the man back
To life again.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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That's The Sum Of It
I don't know which to mourn. Both have died on me, my wife and
my car. I feel strongly about my car, but I am also affected by my,
wife. Without my car, I can't leave the house to keep myself from
being alone. My wife gave me two children, both of whom, of course,
no longer live with us, as was to be expected, as we in our youth left
our parents behind. With my car, I could visit my children, when they
are not too busy.
Before she died, my wife urged me to find another woman. It's advice
I'd like to take up but not without a car. Without a car. I cannot find
myself another woman. That's the sum of it.
poem by David Ignatow
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The Poems Of John Clare
For years in Northampton mental asylum he battled his ghosts of despair
His Nation's finest poet of Nature the marvellous wordsmith John Clare
So many of his poems are relevant today
The one who loved Nature with words had a way.
The Helpston he grew up in not a cultural place
And though in that old Village his was a known face
They little realized the fame to them he'd bring
That poetry lovers World wide his praises would sing.
Without him less people of Helpston would know
The great poet of Nature of centuries ago
He died in Northampton mental asylum in dire poverty
Yet is there one greater Nature poet than he?
His flora and fauna poems have passed scrutiny's test
And as a Nature poet he was surely the best
Into the soul of Nature it seemed he could see
And his verses have outlived his mortality.
He never did enjoy his literary renown
And he died in the asylum in Northampton Town
But he was a true poet and his type are so rare
And old Helpston lives on in the poems of John Clare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Tamil New Year Day,2009
Today is ‘Tamil New Year Day’ –
A day of joy and happiness,
That fills the hearts of Tamilians,
Wherever they may be, they say!
Let Tamil foster friendship, love;
Let Tamil ignite hearts and minds;
Let Tamil bring new hope to all;
Let Tamil thrive and fill the world!
Let Tamil serve not to divide;
Let Tamil bond only unite;
Let Tamil grow in leaps and bounds;
Let Tamil live to make all live!
Let wars all cease and peace prevail;
Let love of brethren become prime;
Let Tamils live with dignity;
Let Tamil rule the world some day!
Fondly dedicated to Tamilians all over the world!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-14-2009
poem by John Celes
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Good man / bad man
Good man died once
Bad man died and killed
So many times
Before finally died.
Good man died in peace
Bad man died in pain.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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So You Died
so you died!
when i heard,
i cried.
you were apple
of my eyes,
love of my life.
when you
left my side
i died.
i died
when you died.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Louis
He speaks with a very strong accent though his English seems quite good to me
The man from the fishing Village in Malta by the Mediterranean sea
He likes to go rod and line fishing and cast his line from rocks on the shore
In the low tide in the early evening he fishes for two hours or more.
Louis is a likeable old fellow he looks quite well for eighty two
Though his life has never been easy and his sorrows he has been through
He does his best for to keep active he tends his garden every day
And nothing in life to him has come easy his gray hair he has earned one might say.
His wife Rina died in her mid sixties going back some fifteen years ago
She was suffering from stomach cancer her end it was painful and slow
For four decades they were together and he loved her his devoted wife
The final parting for him was heartbreaking though he still got on with his life.
Their only child Paul died in Vietnam in the sixties their cross of grief heavy to bear
A handsome young man in his early twenties with brown eyes and wavy brown hair
His comrades tell of how he died bravely but that of little comfort to them
Their son's loss to them was heartbreaking and for many years they grieved for him.
Louis lives in his seaside cottage with Blue his dog a Kelpie x Heeler cross
And though the death of his son and then his wife to him was a heartbreaking loss
He still gets on with life and with living and he goes fishing every second day
And it can be truly said of him that he has earned his hair of gray.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Solemn Purpose
Poet!
recite to us
a monody. Let it
be sad. Make us cry for those that
have died.
Remind
us on this day
of mourning, why they died:
So that everyone may live in
freedom.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Suicide
A man
Committed suicide
He did not die
His attitude died
Inability to fight the
Situation
Face the reality
Died
His patience
His confidence
Died
Faith in himself
Died
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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